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After I made that comment, Nick finally seemed to have a bit of relief. He had a lot riding on this. If my so-called "prediction" about Tony Stark didn't pan out, I knew Ross would be on him like a rabid dog. Still, Nick wasn't done yet. He had more on his mind.
"Mr. Walker, I'm sure you understand by now," Nick began, his tone diplomatic, "that people like you—those with special abilities—often don't fit neatly into the world. You'll face misunderstandings, problems. Just like what happened with Ross today. It's bound to cause you some headaches."
I nodded. He wasn't wrong. Even though he was trying to sell me something, there was a lot of truth in what he was saying. I decided to play along, so I raised an eyebrow and asked, "What exactly are you getting at, Director?"
"Cooperation," Nick said smoothly. "S.H.I.E.L.D. can help you. We deal with the kind of messes that come with your abilities. And all we ask is that, when the time comes, you help us with certain... tasks. See things that ordinary people can't."
Nick wasn't sugarcoating it. He was offering me a deal: cover my back, clean up any trouble I caused, and in return, I'd do S.H.I.E.L.D. a few favors. A classic give-and-take.
I considered it for a moment. It wasn't a bad offer. I wouldn't have to worry about the small stuff, and S.H.I.E.L.D. could prove useful in my own plans down the road. If I played my cards right, I could even leverage their power for my own benefit.
"Deal," I said.
With that, we had a silent understanding. We'd help each other out when it suited us. I could already tell that Nick was satisfied with our arrangement.
Before Nick left, he offered to handle the fallout from the comic predicting Tony Stark's kidnapping, to keep things quiet.
But I waved him off. "No need. I want this to blow up. The more noise, the better for my comic sales."
Nick gave me an amused look but didn't argue. After all, it wasn't his neck on the line when it came to comic book success.
When he finally left, I headed back to my room and crashed. I needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow was another busy day, and I needed to be sharp.
The night passed quickly, and the next morning, I learned firsthand what it's like to be a public figure. The second I stepped out of my apartment and headed toward the office, I found myself swarmed.
Reporters. Dozens of them.
Before I could even process what was happening, microphones were shoved in my face. Cameras were flashing like it was the Fourth of July, and every single one of them was shouting questions at me like they were trying to win a contest.
I tried to push through the crowd, using my arm to shield my eyes from the blinding flashes. The chaos was unbearable. So much for the U.S. being the land of privacy.
"Mr. Walker, what's your response to the Tony Stark kidnapping you predicted in your Iron Man comic?"
"Mr. Walker, some sources are claiming you had something to do with Stark's disappearance. Any comment?"
"Do your comics predict the future? Does this mean you have some kind of supernatural power?"
"Mr. Walker, it's been reported that a government agency has reached out to you about these events. Is that true?"
The barrage of questions was relentless. Every single one was focused on the comic prophecy about Stark's kidnapping. It seemed like no one cared about the actual kidnapping anymore. Stark's disappearance had taken a back seat to whether or not I had some kind of foresight.
If it weren't for the publicity they were drumming up, I'd have been tempted to knock them all down just to get some peace. But I needed the buzz. If they wanted to run their mouths, fine. Let them. Every camera flash and every headline was more attention for Iron Man and Marvel.
I finally managed to push past the crowd and make my way into the office, feeling both frustrated and amused. It looked like my plan was working better than I'd expected.